David Begins Graduate Study Pt. 02

We had dinner at the Fabioni's every three months or so, and after three such visits, I asked David if we could invite them back to the flat for dinner. "Would you like me to cook for them or shall we get food sent in? he asked. "And should we invite anyone else, Edward for instance?"

"Their food is always so good, I think in the first instance we should get food from a caterer," I said. "In that way, you can enjoy the occasion without the distraction of cooking. Moreover, in that way we can spend more time on the choice of wines. We'll start with Franciacotta, a nice sparkling wine as a change from Prosecco, and end with Marsala, but we'll have to give careful thought to the other two wines. And we must make sure that they travel by taxi! At this stage, I don't think we should invite anyone else, and in any case, Edward is in Italy."

"When Rockwell's Barn is finished, we must invite them there. There they can stay overnight, and I will do the cooking. I don't think for this first visit I will order Italian food, I'll use the firm that I used the first time that we fucked, all of four years ago. Their menus are reliable and excellent quality. Moreover, they will supply any wine that I ask them for, and of course the wines will all be Italian."

The dinner party was a great success. Marcello was on top form, full of stories and reminiscences of great singers, and Mrs Fabioni, who asked me to call her Caterina, chatted happily to Jon about her days on the stage. They had one daughter, married to an opera singer in Italy, and two grandchildren, who loved to visit grandad in Camford. They enjoyed the food, which consisted of gazpacho, followed by a seafood salad with pasta, and the meal ended with a chocolate mousse. We had two excellent Italian white wines with it, Verdicchio and the rather sweet Albana di Romagna, and ended with espresso and Marsala.

Chapter 17 David

The Choir in Durham

The August sun shone down brilliantly, making the foliage of the trees on the side of the hill where the Cathedral stands in a loop of the River Wear glow in their chlorophyll-laden richness. The minibus which had brought the choir to the city was unable to take us directly to the college where were staying. It had to park at the side of the street, and we had to carry our luggage over a bridge and up a steep hill to reach the summit on which the Cathedral and the Castle stand, together with a small number of university buildings, shops, restaurants and pubs. The old castle of the city has for nearly 200 years housed part of the University and a number of other departments and colleges were situated upon the hill, although the major buildings were lower down in the city

Before I left for Durham, I had had to have a long discussion with Charlie my supervisor about the length of time that I was going to be away from the lab in the course of that summer. He assured me that my progress was quite satisfactory and there was no reason why an absence of a total of four weeks should affect my research progress or my reputation in the Department. With that reassurance, I was able to go off on the trip in a relaxed state, ready to give my best in our performance.

In the end, 18 of us had managed to find enough time to fit in the visit. As might be expected, there were more women than men. However there were just enough tenors and an adequate number of baritones and basses for the organ scholar to feel that we could perform satisfactorily. He himself would be playing for us, except on the Sunday, because all the Cathedral organists were on holiday. We were staying in a college near the cathedral, which was very convenient, as we had to sing three times on a Sunday and at least once on each weekday, usually for evensong. It was also necessary for us to spend a lot of time rehearsing, because we had had no opportunity to practise before our visit. Over seven days we were to perform at least three settings for the liturgy and a different anthem each day. This of course was much more demanding than our usual Sunday evening college performance.

However, although we were an amateur group, I was not the only one with an obsessive passion for singing. Two other men and three of the women felt as I did that our singing was the most important part of the visit. The rest of the choir, particularly the men, saw the trip as an opportunity to visit new pubs and taste Northern beer and such night-life as a cathedral city can offer in summer, which wasn't much. The microbrewery revolution was at that time only in its very early stages, but as a university city Durham had a number of pubs, especially in the old part of the city, where the landlord had a free choice of beer and the customers, more discriminating than students in many universities, made sure that excellent new brews were tried out.

The six of us keen singers abstained from visiting pubs at lunchtime. In those days there were several unsophisticated cafés in the old city where we could obtain a decent light lunch. The college provided us with dinner in the evenings, which was just as well, as during the summer only a few restaurants were open. I used to spend the morning after breakfast at the swimming pool which was a stiff walk from the old city I would swim 25 lengths each morning before walking back to join the rest for a choir practice at 11 am each day. Evensong was sung at 3 pm and by the time that we had robed and disrobed we were in the Cathedral for over an hour. In those days the boozers did not open until 6 o'clock at the earliest, so we usually visited one of the cafes again for a cup of tea before college dinner at 7 leaving us from 8 o'clock onwards free to drink as much as we liked, or could afford!.

One of the women in our group of six was very attractive. She combined just the right balance of modesty, self-confidence, sweet introversion and chattiness that I found very pleasant. Her name was Laura. She was a first year student, new to the choir, and a good contralto. After a couple of days, Laura and I left the others and tended to have lunch together. I had never made any secret of my gayness, but it did not seem to stop Laura being her charming self. I confessed that I had not felt never felt very comfortable in the presence of women except for the members of my own family. She said to me, "Just because you are gay doesn't mean to say that you need to shy away from women."

"No," I replied, "I know that. I know that a lot of women like gay men because they because they do not feel threatened or tempted. How about you, do you have a regular boyfriend?"

"Not just at the moment," she said, "otherwise I would probably not have come on this trip. But I am very glad that I did. I find the atmosphere in this city and the fun of being in the choir something that I will remember for a long time and certainly would have regretted if I had missed it." Then the tone of her voice changed, and became quieter and much more tender. "Besides," she said "if I hadn't come on this trip, I would never have had the chance to talk to you."

This amazed me, and I felt myself blushing. In spite of making it very clear that I was not available, this very attractive girl seemed to be interested in me. "It's very nice to be with you," I said. "When you live with someone on a daily basis, you tend not to look at other people, but you are being very sweet to me!"

It was quite late, most of the lunchtime patrons of the cafe had gone. So the place was quite quiet. "Would you like to kiss me?" Laura said quietly.

"Yes, I think I would," I said, hesitantly. I moved my chair to beside hers and turned to her and kissed her on the lips. I could not remember the last time that I had kissed a woman other than my mother or my sister, and I had forgotten how nice it is. And she actually smelt nice. Most women stink of make-up. She wasn't wearing any, and looked all the more attractive as a result. Although her response was quite passionate, it was totally different from the reaction elicited by kissing a man. She just seemed to melt in my arms, and she opened her mouth so that I could put my tongue inside. I kissed her very enthusiastically and to my amazement she put her arms around my shoulders and ran the right arm down to the small of my back and began to caress my arse. I could not believe that this was happening to me. I put my right hand round her waist and moved away from her lips so that I could speak. Down below, I could feel my dick beginning to stiffen. "You are so nice!" I said. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I fancy you," she said.

"You must be teasing me," I said. "Women don't do this to men. They wait for men to take the initiative. And you know that I am in a committed partnership. Although my lover will not mind if we do anything together, I will have to tell him. So you need to know that we can't start a long-term relationship."

"Yes, I know all that," she said. "All I want is to spend one night with you."

"Okay," I said, "do you often do this? What I mean is do you often go to bed with men that you don't know very well? You are not very old, so how many men have you actually slept with?"

"I'm older than you think, I'm almost 20. And the answer to your other question is, I have slept with about a dozen men. Do you think that makes me a strumpet?"

"You're only a strumpet if you take money!" I replied.

"Of course I didn't take money" she replied indignantly "I slept with them because I fancied them."

"I don't want to sound old-fashioned," I said "but are you going to go on with one night stands for the rest of your life? I take it that it never happened more than once with any of these men."

"You're right," she said "they were all one night stands. And the reason I do it is to find out how different men are."

"Sexual intercourse to me is something that you only do with someone whom you know. I've only ever had oral sex with a stranger. If you and I do it," I said, "suppose I ask you for anal sex. That is something that obviously I have a lot of experience with. Would that upset or disgust you?"

"Not at all, I was going to offer you the choice when I finally got you into bed!"

"You can probably guess that I've never fucked a woman. So as this may well be the only time, I want to know how vaginal sex is done, so I don't want to go up the chocolate boulevard! I will need you though to tell me exactly what to do if you want to enjoy it."

"That's what I hoped you would say!" she replied.

"Just remember," I said "that we are going to be together in the choir for another two years. If it goes wrong, it will leave both of us with unpleasant feelings every time we meet to sing. And another thing, do you tell people about your sexual experiences? It would make it impossible for us in the choir if all or some of them knew what we had been doing."

"David," she said, "I tell you that no man has ever left my bed feeling unsatisfied, and I have never slept with an inadequate man. If I had any doubt that you would not give me pleasure, I would never have asked you in the first place! As for your second question, I promise you that I will never talk about this to anyone. It is not my practice to tell everyone about all the men that I've had.'

"But suppose that, to put it crudely, I can't get it up?"

"You'll not have any problems. My mouth will see to that!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This girl had the experience of a pro! "But we had better be getting ready to go across to the Cathedral" she said, "come to my room after dinner tonight, and bring some condoms with you. It's room C9."

My performance that afternoon in the psalms and canticles was not good. My mind was a turmoil of apprehension and excitement, mixed with guilt and doubt. After the service, I walked a little way down the hill towards the city and found an off-licence, where I bought some chocolates and a bottle of sherry. I felt that we might need some alcoholic encouragement...

I went back to my room and rummaged in my suitcase and pulled out the large, heavy, brick-like article that Jon had recently bought me. It was an early ("first generation") model of mobile telephone. Networks were few and sparse in those days, and it came as no surprise when I switched it on and tried to ring Jon's number, that there was no signal. So as far as decision-making was concerned I was on my own. Should I try and shag this woman or not? On the one hand, Jon had suggested that the best hope of us having a family was for me to find a woman who could live happily with both of us. On the other hand, this girl had no plans for procreation, but she was very attractive, and obviously wanted it. I was not in any way dishonouring her, and it would at least show me what fucking a woman was like. I asked myself whether it was sinful, and it seemed to me that assuming that Jon was not upset (and how could he be? I was not deceiving him and he wanted me to father a child, though in this case it was more about finding out what cunt-fucking was like), no-one would be harmed by this little escapade, as long as Laura kept her mouth shut.

Dinner was a good meal and was finished fairly rapidly, and about ten minutes before 8 pm, I was knocking on Laura's door with a box of chocolates, a bottle of sherry and a packet of rubbers in my pocket. She opened the door with a sweet smile, put a "Do not disturb" card on the handle, invited me in and locked the door.

I grabbed her and threw my arms round her, and began to kiss her, while at the same time running my hand over her arse. She responded by rubbing her hand through my hair and caressing the back of my neck. She smelt good. She obviously used a high quality sophisticated perfume. She rubbed her belly against my hardening cock and smiled so sweetly. I then let go of her and said "How about a little drink? A small glass of sherry?" There were two plastic tooth glasses on the washbasin, and she fetched them. I poured us out a generous tot of sweet sherry each.

"Would you like a cup of coffee now, to drink with the chocolates, or would you prefer to wait until later?" she asked.

"Let's just have the sherry now, and the other things later," I said.

We started to sip the sherry. It was a pleasantly warm evening and the room had two easy chairs. Unlike rooms in Camford colleges, sofas were not provided. We sat close to one another and smiled. "What are you reading?" I asked. "English," she replied.

"That's a very respectable discipline for Camford," I said.

"Yes," she said, "we actually have to learn Anglo-Saxon."

"That should keep you busy!" I replied with a grin. "I expect that your vocabulary is more ladylike than mine, but my boyfriend and I use a lot of Anglo-Saxon words when we're talking to one another" I said "especially four-letter ones! What part of the country do you come from?"

"Surrey," she replied, "really Home Counties! What about you?"

"I come from not very far away from here," I said, "though I'm in my fifth year in Camford and can't see myself coming back to the North of England. I think my future jobs are all likely to be in the South, hopefully in the vicinity of Camford, because Jon my boyfriend hopes to get a permanent job there eventually. At present he is a post-doc in the Chemistry Department."

Laura leaned forward and started to unbutton my shirt. She slipped her hand inside and started to tweak the hair round my nipples. She certainly knew how to turn a man on, and her lovemaking techniques reminded me of Jon. She was wearing a loose-fitting blouse, which hung down outside her jeans. I ventured to get hold of the bottom of the blouse and she grinned at me, encouraging me to pull it over her head, which I then did. She was wearing a very small neat brassière covering her small neat breasts. Her body was quite suntanned, and she told me that she had been on holiday in Italy for a couple of weeks at the end of July. I sipped my sherry and admired what I could see of her figure, wondering whether I was expected to undo the bra.

"I'm sorry if I appear to be very hesitant and possibly clumsy," I said, "but I have never made love to a woman before. I don't know what you expect and I don't know whether I should take the initiative in for instance undressing you, or whether you prefer to stay in control."

"Well," she said, "if you want to see my tits you're going to have to remove my bra!" and she giggled. That giggle set me at ease. I had been shy and apprehensive, not knowing what she expected of me. As if reading my thoughts, she said, "Relax, take the initiative and make love to me as if I were a man."

"I can't do that," I said, "because I would be too rough. Besides, I know exactly what turns a man on, but I'm not sure what you would enjoy."

"Don't worry!" she said, "just do what you fancy and as long as it does not include beating or bruising I'm not likely to object! It's not often I get the opportunity to take a man's virginity! Most of my previous lovers have been pretty experienced."

"I am only a virgin is far as women are concerned," I replied "I know exactly what to do with my cock with a man. Of course a lot of what I do with a man I could do with you, but I really want to see what vaginal fucking is really like. I hope that you'll excuse my Anglo-Saxon words!"

"I don't mind at all," she said "fuck and cunt are after all standard words in that great classic of English literature 'Lady Chatterley's Lover.'"

"If you really mean that then," I said, "please let me take your jeans off and your panties, and spread your legs, so that I can get a good look at your cunt."

"My," she said, "no man has ever asked to take a look at it before. They've only been interested in finding where it is, solely to get their dicks into it."

"Well maybe they know exactly what a woman looks like and what angle to go into her at," I said. "But women below the belt are a foreign country to me. I'm also going to want to have a good look at your arse. You might enjoy that a bit more, because I'm going to spend some time kissing it."

By now we had finished the sherry and it was clear the Laura wanted me to remove her remaining clothes. I did this awkwardly but with some alacrity. It was a good job it was a warm evening. She lay on the bed and looked rather attractive. She was slim and suntanned, and her provocative pose had an immediate effect on my tool. She grinned broadly when she saw it stiffening, even though it was just a bulge in the front of my pants. I knelt down and cupped her right tit in my right hand and started to nibble the nipple. I kissed her between the tits and slowly proceeded to move my lips down her chest and belly until I reached the hair round her cunt. I could still smell her perfume, clearly she was not risking any fishy smells. I pulled back so that I could view her pussy in all its female glory, and began to tear off my clothes. My suntan from the previous September had long since faded, and I was conscious of the contrast between my white body and her suntanned body. I was totally amazed as I pulled off my underpants to discover the hardness of my tool. I had expected that at the best it would have been half erect. Laura giggled. "You see," she said "you don't need my mouth to get it up! Let me have a close up look at it."

"I can't imagine any woman except a prostitute saying something like that!" I said.

"You don't have to do it for money to be interested in men and what they have between their legs," she said. "I suspected that you had a big one and indeed you have. I think it's probably the biggest of any man that I've had!"

I felt in the pocket of my trousers and pulled out the package of condoms and opened it, withdrew one and tore off the foil wrapper. I handed the rubber to her and said, "Please will you put that on for me? Do you need me to put on some lube?"